Never Miss a Chance (17 page)

Since arriving, he’d congratulated three families on four new
babies, heard gossip about the Taylor boy who was stepping out with the
Whitsett girl which everyone expected to end in marriage and been offered
brandy that rivaled even Lynwood’s stock.  The only recent disagreement had
been one involving an amorous sheepdog and an offended goat.  But from what he’d
heard in colorful detail, that contretemps had been resolved with a well-placed
kick from the goat.

However, since he’d made the trip all the way to Cornwall,
he felt obliged to meet with his tenants and ensure they had everything they
needed.  His stewards and staff were quite capable, but he believed he had an
obligation to personally check in with his people at least once a year. 

As he walked the windswept coast, he thought about bringing
Lizzie there.  He had a private cove on his property which had always been a
favorite spot for swimming.  He imagined stripping bare with Lizzie then diving
into the waves where they’d make love.  That was the direction most of his
thoughts ran these days.  Different places to make love to Lizzie.  His mind
had become quite adept at thinking of new places and interesting ways.  He
looked forward to the day he could finally put his plans in motion.

“So ye see, milord, that keeping the sheepdog away from the
goat was the only thin’ to do,” said Owen Lintle, whose family had worked the
land longer than Riverton’s family had owned it.  “The goat wouldna stay penned
and t’weren’t the fault of the goat no how.  Why punish the goat when it was
the dog that had no manners?”

After a moment when Riverton’s mind had been far removed, he
realized some sort of acknowledgement was in order.  He nodded with a very
proper “Right you are.”

Lintle continued even though Riverton felt he’d already
heard every pertinent detail in the sheepdog/goat courtship.  “Put the goat off
her milk, it did.  Can’t imagine the sheepdog was feeling all to rights,
neither.  Once got kicked by a goat meself in the ribs.  Couldna move without
groaning for a week.”

“Yes, well, hopefully the dog will have learned his lesson,”
said Riverton.

“Hope so, although it certainly has been somethin’ to talk
about.  Ain’t been nothin’ else of note since the squire got the letter from
Lady Edith.”

That finally drew Riverton’s attention from thoughts of
Lizzie.  “Lady Edith wrote to the squire?”

“That’s what we heard tell.  Old Mrs. Mills whose daughter
does for the squire’s wife said him and his missus was talking about the note
from Lady Edith, telling him to send you a letter for you to come to Cornwall. 
Much as he didn’t want to disappoint her ladyship on account of her, uh…” 
Lintle paused awkwardly.

“Go ahead Lintle.  I can understand how disappointing my
sister can have consequences.” 

“Well,” the man cleared his throat.  “The squire and his
wife talked back and forth about it, then decided it would be a good time to
take a trip to see his sister, then they could claim they wasn’t here to get
the letter from her ladyship.  I think they might have wanted to pack up and
move, but in the end, they reckoned it would be the thing to say they got the
message too late to do anything about it.”

“Did my sister say why she wanted me to be summoned here?”

“I dunno.  But when you showed up, we reckoned she’d found
another way to get you to come.  T’weren’t no one’s business to ask why you do
things.  We was just glad to see you.  To let you know about the sheepdog and
the goat and all.”

“And I do appreciate that, Lintle.  Very much indeed.  Now,
tell me about the new fishing nets you need constructed.”

Riverton continued talking to the man, all the while wondering
why Edith had thought it necessary to get him across the country.  What was she
up to this time?

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

At long last the carriage arrived at the entrance to
Riverton Farms.  Footmen rushed out to help the ladies disembark.  As Lizzie
stretched her weary back, she studied the rather imposing home she’d been
looking at during the impressively long approach.  It was as formal as Riverton
himself.  Yet again she wished he were by her side.

“Are you ready?” asked Mariah, as she took Lizzie’s arm.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The door to the great house opened and the butler stepped
out to greet them.  Mansfield was as imposing a servant as Lizzie had ever
met.  Never one to be intimidated by anyone, she nevertheless wished her
carriage dress weren’t quite so wrinkled. 

Mansfield bowed.  “Welcome to Riverton Farms.  I am to
escort you to your rooms.  Her ladyship and guests await you in the formal
drawing room.”

They entered the house and Lizzie stopped in amazement.  The
outside had been so imposing, but the interior had an unexpected warmth.  Italian
marble floors in a sandy tone stretched through the foyer and up the immense
double staircase.  An ancient tapestry hung on the wall, and while the
battlefield it depicted didn’t do much to lend a welcoming air, the vases of
fresh flowers surrounding it muted the carnage at least a bit.

Two oversized leather chairs flanked the granite fireplace and
a decidedly mutt-like dog was sleeping on the rug in front of it.  No house
could ever be too imposing if it contained a mutt.

“It’s a home,” whispered Lizzie.

She must’ve said it louder than she thought, because
Mansfield added, “Lord Riverton’s work, my lady.  He believes a house should be
a home.”

Mansfield escorted them up the grand staircase, then up
another flight and down the hall to the guest wing.  With every step they took,
Lizzie could see Riverton’s good taste.  There were the requisite antique vases
and portraits, but also plenty of sunshine courtesy of the drapes pulled back
from the floor-to-ceiling windows. 

Mansfield turned down another corridor, then ushered them
into the sitting room between two bed chambers.  Neither was particularly large. 
Lizzie had a feeling Lady Riverton had given them two of the lesser chambers. 
But even they were luxurious.

“Lady Elizabeth, this is to be your room.”  Mansfield
indicated the larger of the two chambers.  “Miss Prudence, your room is on the
other side of the sitting room.  Miss Mariah, your chamber is…”  And here, the
unflappable Mansfield seemed just the slightest non-plussed.  “Miss Mariah,
your bed chamber is in the next corridor at the very end.”

There was a slight pause, as Mariah blushed and Prue
narrowed her eyes.  Then Lizzie jumped into the breach.

“Mansfield, I have a rather embarrassing fault to confess to
you.  According to my brothers, I have a tendency to snore.  Apparently I make
a dreadful amount of noise.  Might it be possible for me to take Miss Mariah’s
chamber and for her to have mine?  I simply cannot countenance keeping my aunt
awake at night.  I daresay I could awaken everyone in this wing if even a
portion of what my brothers say is true.”

“Of course, my lady,” said Mansfield, as he bowed.  “I shall
make the arrangements straight away.  If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to
your chamber.”

With a brilliant smile to her Aunt and Mariah, Lizzie
followed the butler down the hall to what was quite likely the smallest room in
the house.  Possibly the county.

After changing her gown and walking the halls solely for the
exercise and very much not to learn more about Riverton’s private life, Lizzie
could put off joining the party no longer.  She went downstairs to the formal
drawing room.  Two footmen opened the double doors, then Mansfield announced
her.

The formal drawing room – while certainly formal – was also
filled with fresh flowers.  One wall was loaded with bookshelves, always a
promising sign.  The thick Aubusson carpet, the draperies, and the crystal sconces
all foretold the obvious wealth of the estate.  But Lizzie was once again struck
by how there was real warmth around her, at least where it concerned the
furnishings.  The people were another matter all together. 

Lizzie turned her attention to the occupants of the room. 
Lady Riverton was rather chilly  in her greeting to Lizzie.  Edith and
Charlotte nodded slightly in her general direction.  Edith was eating a tea
cake.  Charlotte was looking in the mirror, evidently liking what she saw.

Lizzie was surprised to see that the only other guest in
attendance was the Earl of Stalford.  The earl raised her hand to his lips. 
“Lady Elizabeth,” he said.  “How good it is to see you again.  I have missed
speaking with you in London.  Indeed, any time I enter a ballroom and find you
not within, I have the overwhelming urge to run for the exit.”

Lizzie smiled at the absurd flattery as she tugged her hand
away.  “At least here if you should run for the exit, you would find yourself
with no end of places to hide.”

“But now you have come and I shall be perfectly content to
remain.  Unless, of course, you should wish to run away as well.”

“Why should I run away when I have only just arrived?  I am
looking forward to getting to know my future sisters better,” said Lizzie, very
much aware of her untruth but feeling the need to be loyal to Riverton.  “I
trust you have heard of my understanding with the Marquess of Riverton?  It has
not yet been formally announced, but we are in the process of making
arrangements.”

“I had heard of it.  And I wish you happy in the years
ahead,” Stalford said as he smiled most winningly.

Lizzie was a little surprised by his felicitations, which
seemed genuine.  It hadn’t been that long ago when he’d expressed an interest
in courting her.  It was at least a bit lowering to know news of her engagement
would be met with such equanimity.

“I hope, my dear Lady Elizabeth, to spend some time with you
here,” he continued.  “I would very much like to hear your future plans for
improving the rights of women.  Perhaps we can talk tomorrow during the
picnic?”

“I should like that above all things,” she said, gratified
there was at least one male in England who believed in what she was doing. 

“Look who’s finally returned from one of her walks,” said
Edith, looking out the window.  “It is Miss Rennard, who has yet to exhaust her
supply of dreadful gowns.”

“I still don’t understand why we had to admit her to the
house,” said Charlotte. 

Lizzie was then informed that Miss Rennard, a very distant Riverton
connection, had arrived quite scandalously without a companion, saying her maid
had been called home to care for a sick relation.  According to Charlotte, it
was quite dodgy the way Miss Rennard felt some ill nobody should take precedence
over a gentleman’s daughter.  If Miss Rennard truly was a gentleman’s
daughter.  She certainly didn’t dress befitting her station, what with her
horribly outdated clothes and deplorable lack of taste.  Lady Riverton had
considered refusing the chit admittance – and Charlotte felt with whole mind, body
and soul the girl should be shooed from the property – but if Riverton heard of
them refusing to shelter a connection the consequences would be too dire to
even contemplate. 

A quarter of an hour later the woman herself entered the
room.  Lizzie smiled at the red-haired young lady of petite stature and
enviable curves.  She was wearing a drab gown that wouldn’t have looked out of
place at a nunnery.  But it couldn’t be easy to be an uninvited guest at a house
party, especially one at Riverton Farms.  Lizzie excused herself to Stalford,
then set out to make the acquaintance of Miss Rennard.

“Well?” Edith asked Stalford as soon as Lizzie was out of
earshot.  “What progress have you made?”

“Good God, Edith.  The chit only just arrived.”

“Then left you so she could talk to a country mouse.  And to
think you’re rumored to have a way with women.”

“It’s more than a rumor, I can assure you,” he said, as he
raked his eyes up and down Edith’s form to disconcert her.  She looked
surprisingly good in a gown that showcased her curves.  He was rewarded with
just a slight shiver from the lady.  Of course, it was Edith, so it might just
as well have been chilblains.

“You don’t have an infinite amount of time,” said Edith.  “I
wouldn’t be surprised if Riverton showed up in the next few days.  So whatever
you’re planning, make it good and get it done.  And stop looking at me as if I
were mutton at a butchery.  It is most unbecoming.”

It was most unbecoming
, thought Edith as she walked
away in a huff. 
But it did cause the oddest sensations
.

“I hope you’ll allow me to introduce myself,” said Lizzie to
Miss Rennard.  “I’m Lady Elizabeth Kellington.”

Miss Rennard curtsied and smiled, injecting needed warmth
into the room.  “I am Miss Tara Rennard.  It is a pleasure to meet you, my
lady.”

“There you are,” said the recently arrived Arthur, who
kissed his sister on the cheek.  He smiled rather wolfishly at Miss Rennard,
who looked none too happy to see him.

That would be a first,
thought Lizzie.  Usually,
women fell all over themselves to meet her brothers.  This one was showing not
just reluctance, but an out and out aversion.  It made Lizzie like her even
more.

“Lord Arthur Kellington, ma’am,” he said, bowing over Miss
Rennard’s hand.  “At your service.”

For a moment it seemed she wouldn’t introduce herself. 
After too long of a pause to have gone unnoticed she said “Miss Tara Rennard.”

“I have heard you’re a great walker, Miss Rennard,” said
Arthur.  “Have you perchance had the opportunity to view the lake?”

“I have, my lord,” she said, from what Lizzie could almost
swear was a clenched jaw.

“I should like to see it sometime myself,” said Arthur.  “I
understand it offers views others would be envious to behold.”

Miss Rennard narrowed her eyes at him, but whatever she was
going to say was cut off as Mansfield announced that dinner was served.

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” Miss Rennard said to Lizzie
with a smile.  A smile that disappeared when she turned to the other
Kellington.  “Lord Arthur.”  Then she turned on her heel and walked toward the
dining room, leaving Arthur grinning at the back of her.

“Arthur,” said Lizzie.  “What have you done to the nice Miss
Rennard?”

“What makes you think I’ve done anything?  Furthermore, what
makes you think she’s so nice?”

Lizzie looked at her brother appraisingly.  “She’s a
Riverton connection.  Quite possibly the only good one to be found.  Do have a
care, will you?”  

“I always do,” he said with a smile.

Dinner turned out to be a bizarre affair.  The food itself
was everything it should be.  Riverton obviously employed an excellent cook.  Lizzie
was pleased to find herself seated next to Stalford on one side and Miss
Rennard on the other.

Poor Arthur was at the other end of the table seated next to
Charlotte, whose bosom was vying for the position of Guest of Honor.

Stalford’s conversation was all it should’ve been.  Light,
witty and charming.  He was an easy conversationalist.  He even drew out Miss
Rennard, which was kind of him as it seemed the girl was quite shy. 

Edith more or less kept to herself, intent upon the dishes. 

Charlotte and her breasts were telling a story she’d heard
about a curricle race from London to Brighton in which a farmer’s son had been
injured as he was watching from the side of the road.  It turned out the loser
of the race had to give the boy’s family five quid to have his leg set
properly, which was quite ridiculous, since none of it would’ve happened if the
child had been in the field working instead of gawking at the side of the road.

“But wasn’t that exactly what the London crowd was doing?”
asked Lizzie.

“Yes,” said Charlotte, as if to an imbecile.  “But they were
from
London
and he was a
farmer’s
child
.  And Lord
Carruthers might not even have lost the race if it hadn’t been for the accident.”

“It was Carruthers’s fault for being reckless,” said Lizzie.

“How typical of you to think such a thing,” said Charlotte.

“I think she makes a rather valid point,” said Miss Rennard
quietly while her eyes were blazing.

The Earl of Stalford cleared his throat, settling everyone
else at the table.  “I must agree with Lady Elizabeth.  I have long decried the
practice of young bucks risking life and limb on these races, especially when
others could be injured, too.  I’m glad some recompense was paid, but nothing
could truly mend a distraught mother’s heart.  No payment would ever be
enough.”

“Not even five quid?” asked Charlotte.  “For a farmer’s
child?” 

“No, Lady Charlotte,” said the Earl of Stalford solemnly.  “Not
even five quid.  I commend Lady Elizabeth for bringing yet another injustice to
light.”

Edith rolled her eyes, then went back to her turbot.

Lizzie, in the meantime, wondered just what the Earl of
Stalford was up to.

When Lizzie finally excused herself for the night, she walked
the halls and her thoughts once again turned to Marcus.  Did he read before
going to sleep?  Was he serious about not giving her a separate bed chamber? 

She rather hoped he was.